


Mirror Image

by HermitLibrary_Archivist



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-05-26
Updated: 2008-05-26
Packaged: 2018-04-21 13:06:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4830176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HermitLibrary_Archivist/pseuds/HermitLibrary_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>by Hafren</p><p>A short encounter in the clothes room. Gan finds the courage to reveal something personal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mirror Image

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Judith and Aralias, the archivists: This story was originally archived at [Hermit.org Blake's 7 Library](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Hermit_Library), which was closed due to maintenance costs and lack of time. To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2015. We posted announcements about the move and emailed authors as we imported, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this author, please contact us using the e-mail address on [Hermit.org Blake's 7 Library collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hermitlibrary/profile). 
> 
> This work has been backdated to 26th of May 2008, which is the last date the Hermit.org archive was updated, not the date this fic was written. In some cases, fics can be dated more precisely by searching for the zine they were originally published in on [Fanlore](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Main_Page).
> 
> Previously Published in Freedom City

She turned in front of the mirror, making the dress move with her. Its heavy velvet, weighted at the hem, was deep blue, a splash of ocean. She ran her hands down it, fingers burrowing into the pile.

"Matches your eyes," Gan said.

"Yes." She glanced at the big man's reflection beside hers. He had found a long sleeveless coat, dark green brocade with gold clasps. She reached out and touched the embossed patterning. "It makes you look like a king."

He blushed. But it was true. The figure that could sometimes be awkward and lumpy acquired dignity in the dramatic, floor-length styles he favoured.

Jenna didn't think clothes were trivial. They said a lot about you; they could reflect your mood or change it, and if you could snatch a little sensual pleasure in the middle of war, so much the better. She loved the Liberator's clothes room with its dazzle of colours and textures. The woollen shawls, fine as lace, like spiders' webs. The hessian that felt like kissing an unshaven man. Red velvet... among the pirates she had run with, that was slang for sex.

Her eye was caught by something else on the rail. She lifted it out: a kaftan-style dress in the thinnest of gauze that floated on the air. The palest mother-of-pearl shimmered in it, more an iridescence than a colour. She held it against her, guessing how it would cling and drape, peeling away from your skin with a crackle of electricity. Then she saw Gan, beside her in the mirror, eyeing the unequivocally feminine garment with longing.

"Go on," she said gently. "No-one else is going to know." She helped him undress, defter than him with fastenings, and dropped the translucent cloud over his head - it was like handling a butterfly's wing. His eyes were on the ground. "Look," she said. She coaxed him to stand straight, letting the folds fall as they should, and look at himself. The figure in the mirror should have been ludicrous, the tall, broad-shouldered man in that delicate tissue of colour, but it wasn't, at least not to her. There is a dress of the soul as well as of the body, and a part of Gan's soul found no expression outside this room.

In the mirror, her reflection smiled at his.


End file.
